


Shockwave's Subject

by auri_mynonys



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Gun Kink, Hate Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, he fucks the gun yall, mention of Megatron/Starscream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 17:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17492186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auri_mynonys/pseuds/auri_mynonys
Summary: Starscream is a puzzle Shockwave can't solve, but that doesn't mean he intends to stop trying. When a private comm drives Shockwave to distraction, things come to a head.





	Shockwave's Subject

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Valeria_Victrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeria_Victrix/gifts).



> EDIT 1/30/19: I went through made some edits for clarity/precision of language. The story should flow a little better now. :)
> 
> I blame Valeria_Victrix entirely for my unending love of this ship, and this entire goddamn fandom tbh.
> 
> I wrote this because of the "Go fuck yourself"/"Fuck me yourself, you coward" meme. This rarepair needs more love and the text suits them pretty much exactly. ENJOY.
> 
> Note: while the sex is eventually consensual, there is some cajoling required to get there. Heed the tags and mind your triggers. 
> 
> Extremely wet and sticky.

Shockwave had always loved a good puzzle. He lived for the next great problem, something he could twist and turn in his processor until he made it crack. Without such puzzles he grew bored and irritable - and when boredom inevitably arose, there was one particular problem he set his processor to unraveling.

That problem was called Starscream.

Despite eons of close interaction with the mech, Shockwave could not understand him at all. Most mecha were predictable, their decisions creating a pattern Shockwave could track and use against them; but Starscream’s behavior followed no logic and left no pattern Shockwave could grasp. The seeker’s motives were ever-changing, his plans ever-shifting, swept off by moods no reasonable mech could ever predict. 

Shockwave doubted that Starscream even understood himself.

He made for an excellent case study when Shockwave grew bored - which was, naturally, the only reason Shockwave dwelled on him so much. What other excuse could there be for the jet’s constant, unbidden appearance in Shockwave’s thoughts? None of his current projects excited him; his Lord had demanded them, but they were not  _ interesting.  _ Shockwave required more complex matters to keep himself entertained.

Still, there was a time for his pet project and a time for focus, and  _ focus  _ was what Shockwave desperately needed that evening. The Autobot stealth device that sat upon his lab table required his full attention, and yet…

And yet, he could not give it.

His processor, so logical and formidable, seemed intent on mutiny. Instead of turning its attention to the project at hand, it returned again and again to its recording of Decepticon High Command’s meeting that afternoon. At first he’d thought it was shame that had caused the constant replay - shame that he had allowed anger to win out over logic, that he had let Starscream irritate him into an emotional response. But there was something else at work, something connected to the seeker…

_ What my ever-so-logical colleague fails to consider is that the Autobots do not move their forces in the most efficient pattern. They move according to what they think will take us by surprise, or what they happen to have the forces for at the moment. - Starscream _

_ This sort of strategy relies on a certain kind of logic. My proposition remains viable. - Shockwave _

_ I think you’ll find that *I* am in charge of troop movements, Shockwave - not you. - Starscream _

_ We have seen how your thinking has failed us in the past. I must reiterate the logic of my strategy here. - Shockwave _

_ Logic? Please. You attempted to logic the last Autobot prisoner to death and he set your lab on fire, stole important intelligence, and made it back to Autobot headquarters with the goods. Should we really trust YOU to devise the best solution? - Starscream _

_ ::Go frag yourself, Starscream::  _ Shockwave had commed, privately, sharp and bitter with his rage. He did not want to be reminded of this failure; he carried enough shame about it already without Starscream salting the wound.

_ ::Frag me yourself, you coward::  _ Starscream had replied.

And there the message sat: glaring bright and furious on Shockwave’s private comm link, repeating over and over again in that same smirking, insolent tone:

_ ::Frag me yourself, you coward.:: _

The words were an ugly itch beneath the scientist’s plating, a drumbeat that tore at his formidable focus. Yes, it was true that he had failed despite his best attempts to curb the Autobot prisoner - but Starscream’s plans had always been more catastrophic by half than Shockwave’s. Yes, he’d let his anger get the better of him, that too - but why those words? Why this irritation?

It was the response that was annoying him.

Shockwave knew it had to be an insult, but nothing about the phrasing indicated it was one. Instead it was a promise, a proposition: a blatant offer from a mech Shockwave assumed was Megatron’s lover first and foremost. Why would Starscream ever present Shockwave with such a proposition? What could he possibly have to gain from it?

Shockwave set down his tools with an angry vent. This constant pondering was doing him no good. He needed answers before he could move forward.

And there was only one mech who could give him those answers.  
  


* * *

 

Starscream was not expecting anyone to interrupt his recharge hours. He and Megatron were on a break at the moment, and nobody else had expressed any interest in the Seeker in the interim - a fact that grated at Starscream’s nerves far more than Megatron’s absence. Was he not desirable? Was he not the Second in Command of the Decepticons, a flyer with a perfect frame and insatiable reputation? Mechs should be lining up at his doorstep begging to frag him. 

But they weren’t, and so Starscream was forced to take matters into his own hands… so to speak. 

He’d just settled in with the latest smutty datapad circulating the Decepticon ranks when his door chimed. Growling in irritation, Starscream flicked the datapad aside and clambored off of his double-wide berth - a luxury he’d been afforded as both Megatron’s lover and the Second. He flitted to the door and opened it with some annoyance, settling into full-fledged anger when he saw who had come calling.

“Shockwave,” he said flatly, glowering at the scientist. “Isn’t it a bit late for a social call?”

Shockwave pushed past him without speaking, optic narrowed. “Sure,” Starscream said, gesturing sarcastically. “Come in. I love nothing better than having my evenings interrupted - especially by you.”

Shockwave paused in the center of Starscream’s quarters, his audials twitching. A sign of annoyance? Curiosity? Starscream could never read the scientist properly. “Close the door,” Shockwave said. His voice was flat and emotionless as ever, but the slight flick of his audials indicated something was amiss.

Starscream hesitated, recalling their spat from earlier in the day. Surely Shockwave wouldn’t dare to harm him? Megatron had made clear that Starscream was to be left alone, to Tarn and Shockwave and an infinite number of others. Shockwave wouldn’t disobey his master… would he?

Even if he wanted to, Starscream reasoned, Shockwave would have found a more opportune moment to commit treason and murder. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk being recorded entering Starscream’s rooms right before he intended to kill him.

Starscream wasn’t that lucky.

Starscream vented and let the door slide closed. “Curious that you should seek me out during the recharge cycle, while neither of us are on duty,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Is this business or pleasure?” 

He’d said it as a joke - obviously it was a joke, Shockwave would  _ never  _ \- but at the words, Shockwave’s audials jerked straight up, his head swiveling to glare at Starscream with one gleaming optic. “Why are you doing this?” Shockwave said. He was - was he  _ angry?  _ Starscream hadn’t even realized Shockwave could experience emotion any longer, but everything about the scientist’s frame indicated he was furious. His optic narrowed sharply, his plating bristled. If he’d had a mouth, he would have been snarling.

Starscream took a step back, wings meeting the cold metal wall. “Doing  _ what _ ?” Starscream said. “You’re the one who’s turned up in my quarters unannounced! I was minding my own business until you - ”

Shockwave turned and stormed across the room to Starscream, looming over him. His gun arm hummed an ominous tune, his one good hand slamming against the wall by Starscream’s helm. “Don’t play games,” Shockwave hissed. “I do not have Lord Megatron’s patience for your lies.  _ Explain yourself. _ ”

“I have nothing to explain!” Starscream shrieked, scrambling to put space between himself and the Head Science Officer - a battle he lost. Trapped between wall and hulking purple mech, Starscream threw one arm up in front of his face to guard against a blow, while the other grabbed Shockwave’s gun arm and turned it away. “Stop pointing that thing at me, you know Megatron would be furious if - ”

“Megatron will have your head if your comment today implies what I think it does,” Shockwave replied. “Now, answer the question.  _ Why  _ did you ask me to frag you?”

Starscream froze. For an instant that felt like an infinity, he stared straight into Shockwave’s glowering eye, a loud ringing stalling his processor.  When had he ever even  _ thought  _ of Shockwave and fragging in the same context, let alone asked the mech to -

Oh.  _ Oh. _

_ ::Frag me yourself, you coward.:: _

Starscream couldn’t help it: he  _ laughed.  _

“You find this situation amusing?” Shockwave said.

“Oh, yes,  _ absolutely, _ ” Starscream cackled. He released Shockwave’s gun arm, shifting into a cocky pose. “You’re so focused on your own ‘logical’ experiments that you can’t even recognize an insult when you - ”

“It wasn’t an insult,” Shockwave said. His hand had curled into a fist, but his gun arm was no longer humming. “It doesn’t make sense as an insult. It’s a blatant invitation - one I’m sure Lord Megatron would be beyond furious you thought to make.”

“Why?” Starscream said. The laughter finally died in his intake. Shockwave hadn’t moved an inch - still looming, still close, and running awfully hot, even for an argument. “He couldn’t hear it, it was a  _ private  _ comm. Besides, it’s not as though we’re  _ exclusive. _ ”

Shockwave tilted his head. “You… are not with Lord Megatron?”

“Well, I  _ am _ , just not  _ only  _ Megatron.” Was he losing it? He had to be losing it. These weren’t the sorts of questions Shockwave would ever ask him, and Starscream would never answer them anyway - not like this.

Not unless he was pressed against the wall, with a suspiciously hot Shockwave holding him down.  _ Hmm.  _

“What’s it matter anyway?” Starscream said, wings clattering restlessly against the wall. “It still wasn’t an invitation to you. You told me to frag myself, I retorted. Sometimes a vaporstick is just a vaporstick.”

“If that were the case, there would be no second meaning. You would have been asking.” Shockwave  _ still  _ hadn’t moved, damn him, though his hand had relaxed and moved closer to Starscream’s helm, like he was thinking about touching him.  _ Eugh. No thank you.  _ “You did it again when I entered.”

“Primus, Shockwave, you of all people should know better than to take me at my word,” Starscream said. “And anyway, even if I  _ was  _ offering,  _ you _ certainly wouldn’t want me.”

Shockwave blinked. Starscream waited, tensed for a reply - but only silence greeted the remark, a silence that lingered.

And lingered.

And lingered.

“You wouldn’t, would you?” Starscream said, trying to prompt Shockwave’s agreement. “Want me, I mean. Want to frag me. You don’t even frag, do you?”

Shockwave’s head tilt deepened. “I used to. Before.” He gestured idly with his gun to his face-that-was-not-a-face. “I recall enjoying the experience a great deal then. You seem to enjoy it as well, if my memory files of our first encounter have not failed me.”

Ah. Starscream’s faceplates heated. He’d always enjoyed recruiting for Megatron in the early days leading to the war, and Shockwave’s recruitment had been a particular challenge - one he had relished at the time, though the very notion of it made him cringe now. “That’s the past. You’ve never shown any recent interest in picking up where we left off that night.”

“No. My attention was needed elsewhere."

Starscream narrowed his eyes. “And… what? It’s not needed elsewhere now?”

Shockwave’s optic dimmed. “On the contrary - my focus is very much required on other things. But I have found myself… distracted.”

Starscream’s lines flared with an abrupt, anxious energy surge. “Are you saying you  _ want  _ to frag me?”

Shockwave’s audials jumped upright - curiosity and excitement, Starscream realized. “Yes,” the scientist said, firmly. “I believe that I am.”

Starscream’s engines thrummed despite himself.  _ Primus damn you, not now! _ “You can’t be serious,” he said, loudly, as if his voice alone could cover the apparent eagerness of his frame. “You’re… you’re out of your processor. You’re unwell, you need to be seen by a medic, perhaps - ”

“My diagnostics indicate that there is nothing wrong with my systems,” Shockwave said, “Except that I am overcharged.”

“So get yourself off like every other self-respecting mech!” Starscream snapped.  _ Like I was planning to.  _ An alarm pinged in his HUD display, warning him that his temperature was climbing at an alarming rate. He pushed at Shockwave, the space between Shockwave’s body and his own now unbearable. “You’re overheating me, back up.”

Shockwave didn’t budge. His round eye hooded into a dimmed half-moon, an expression Starscream had never seen before. There was no blazing fury there as there had been before,  no annoyance, no cool disdain. He was…

Was this Shockwave’s version of  _ berthroom eyes? _

“The temperature of my frame is not enough to induce a similar increase in temperature in yours,” the scientist said. “If you are overheating, it is due to your own frame experiencing overcharge.”

No. No, that was patently absurd. Starscream would  _ never…  _ he would never even  _ consider  _ Shockwave that way… would he? Cold dread flooded his frame.“I am not getting  _ turned on  _ by you pinning me to the wall!” he said, voice laced with indignation.

“Hmm.” Shockwave lowered his gun arm, its tip brushing against the inside of Starscream’s thigh - and the jet’s temperature leapt up at least ten degrees, fans clicking on with a soft hissing noise. Starscream’s spark throbbed behind the glass of his cockpit.  _ Primus damn you! Get yourself together, Screamer!  _ “Interesting. I did not suggest that you were.” The tilt of Shockwave’s head deepened. “The Subject appears to be aroused by violent close contact.”

The subject? What in the pit did  _ that  _ -

Oh. Oh  _ no.  _ Starscream’s tanks flipped as he realized that this was the madmech’s idea of berth-talk. Like he was talking both to and about a fly beneath a microscope. Like he was studying him. 

“I am  _ not  _ your lab experiment,” Starscream snapped, jerking away from the insistent touch of Shockwave’s gun. “Let me go!”

Shockwave locked his single optic with Starscream’s two, pinning him more effectively than that massive bulk. “The Subject,” he said, voice reaching an octave that shot straight to Starscream’s panel, “Proves resistant, despite the charge in his frame. Theory: the Subject is aroused by refusal, violence, and subjugation.”

“The Subject is going to rip your head off if you don’t let him go in the next clik,” Starscream hissed. His HUD display pinged again, a second warning:  **INTERFACE PROTOCOLS INITIATING. PROCEED?** _ Absolutely NOT.  _ Starscream closed the window with a snarl.

Shockwave’s expression remained implacable, his frame burning with a constant, rolling heat. “The Subject resorts to threats when he is in discomfort,” Shockwave said. “Theory: the Subject will be made to comply if dominance is displayed.”

With surprising speed, the scientist caught Starscream’s wrist and raised it above his head, slamming it hard against the wall. Starscream gasped and struggled, lifting a leg to push Shockwave away - but the big purple mech merely used the opportunity to lift Starscream right off the floor, forcing Starscream to hook his legs around Shockwave’s waist for balance.

Oh, this was not good. Starscream’s frame blazed with charge, the interface alert appearing again - framed in bright orange this time.  **WARNING. FRAME OVERHEATING. CHARGE RATE UNSUSTAINABLE. IF CHARGE IS NOT DISPERSED, MANUAL OVERRIDE WILL BE REMOVED. PROCEED?**

_ Go frag yourself,  _ he thought, dismissing the alert - then remembered that was essentially what had gotten him here in the first place. 

“Why you - !” Starscream shrieked, struggling violently. “Stop  _ manhandling  _ me, you glitching oaf - ”

Shockwave’s face loomed close to Starscream’s, scanning his faceplates. “The Subject continues to resist despite heat of overcharge,” Shockwave said. “The Subject requires more stimulation to capitulate.”

Starscream opened his mouth to protest -  _ stimulation? Yes - no - I don’t - stop -  _ but the words had no time to form. Shockwave rammed his thigh up against Starscream’s panel, and Starscream made an obscene noise at the contact, blazing hot metal sending a wave of warmth up into his valve. His fans jumped another level, and inwardly Starscream cursed his entire frame for so easily capitulating to bigger, stronger, rougher mechs. Mechs like Megatron.

Like Shockwave.

Starscream’s spark spun dizzily. He…  _ wanted  _ this? He was  _ excited  _ about this? He was. His frame had betrayed him and he was enjoying every second of this, even being called  _ the Subject.  _ Clinical. Cold. And yet not so - for Shockwave was running just as hot as he was, small tastes of  _ want  _ brushing against Starscream’s EM field as Shockwave continued to grind against his panel.

How… illogical of him.

Shockwave’s chest met Starscream’s with a loud clang. Starscream winced - that was going to leave a mark. A big, ugly, purple mark. Maybe if he was lucky, Shockwave would get red on him in return. “Is your door sealed?” Shockwave asked.

“You can look and see for yourself,” Starscream said, casting Shockwave a sullen look. 

“The Subject must lock the door.”

Starscream rolled his optics. “If you’re so concerned about  _ witnesses -  _ ”

Shockwave’s eye flicked downwards, following the line of Starscream’s glass cockpit. “I do not wish to be interrupted,” he said. “For  _ any  _ reason.”

_ Ooh.  _ That Starscream liked. That was  _ nice.  _ A break from the stoic lab roleplay, an admission of desire and desirability… Starscream couldn’t quite help his smirk. “Anxious to have me all to yourself?” he said, arching a brow ridge.

Shockwave hummed his agreement. “The Subject is… appealing.” Starscream beamed. “And experiments are best performed in sealed environments.”

Ugh. Of course. Any pleasure Starscream had felt ebbed away. “Primus forbid there be a  _ sexy  _ reason,” he said.

Shockwave made a small noise - was that a  _ laugh?  _ Starscream was positive he had never heard Shockwave laugh before. “The Subject prefers praise and worship to reason and logic,” he said. “Noted.”

Starscream was ready with a retort, but Shockwave changed his grip on Starscream’s wrist, pressing him closer to the wall for support and pulling Starscream’s hand downwards. Starscream resisted for a moment, until - oh, Shockwave was guiding his hand down to rub at his panel from the top while Shockwave’s leg ground against him from the bottom. Starscream stiffened and shuddered, a wave of sensation rolling over him between Shockwave’s thigh and his own palm, friction rising and rolling up through his lines. His field shuddered and uncoiled from his frame, brushing over Shockwave’s as he released a deep, pained moan.

Shockwave’s engines revved,  _ loudly.  _

Starscream let his eyes flutter open, coy and seductive, smirking as he ground down onto Shockwave’s thigh, up into the movement of his own hand. This was the last thing he’d expected from Shockwave when he’d appeared, but it proved one thing to the arrogant jet: he was appealing to literally  _ everyone,  _ whether they liked him or not.

He could be alright with that.

Starscream locked the door with an internal command, adding soundproofing protocols for good measure. Not for nothing had he been named Star _ scream.  _ He grinned to himself and wrapped his legs tighter around Shockwave, using the wall behind him for leverage. “You never struck me as an ‘against the wall’ sort,” he said. “Is this really what you - ”

And then Shockwave’s gun was between his lips, resting hot and humming on his glossa. “The Subject talks too much,” Shockwave said, without malice. “The Subject’s mouth might be used more appropriately elsewhere.”

“ _ Mmmrf. _ ” Starscream glowered over the gun’s edge, but its muzzle was heavy and thick and burning against his mouth and  _ unnf,  _ it was  _ doing  _ things to him. He closed his eyes and ran his tongue experimentally around the searing metal, lapping at the tip. Shockwave vented violently in reply, fans hitching and screaming into overdrive when Starscream started sucking. 

_ ::If it feels this good on your gun, imagine how it’ll feel on your spike,::  _ Starscream commed, smirking over the edge of the gun.

Shockwave’s fans roared even louder. With a sharp groan he withdrew the gun, subtly shifting away from the wall and easing Starscream down to stand. “The Subject will comply,” Shockwave ordered. “On your knees.”

_ Liked that idea, did you?  _ “So bossy,” Starscream said, laying his freed hand on Shockwave’s chest. He pinched the rim of Shockwave’s chassis, watching as the purple glass below glowed bright with the flare of Shockwave’s spark. “You sound just like Megatron. Shall I call you  _ master  _ and  _ my lord  _ as well?”

Sudden pressure upon his throat shut Starscream up. Shockwave’s hand closed over his intake and  _ squeezed _ , sensitive cabling and delicate plating crumpling under the strain. “Lord Megatron may not mind,” Shockwave said. “But I do not  _ share  _ my Subjects. When you are with me, you will be  _ with me _ , and me alone. Do I make myself clear?”

Starscream’s processor swam, vocal components failing. An alarm flashed, alerting him to his failing intake - alongside a second alarm, warning him that his panel was about to retract. His valve flooded with lubricant, and he squirmed in midair, achingly empty, wanting,  _ needing.  _  “Y—‘re pr-sum-ing th-s w-ll h-ppen ag—n,” he managed to wheeze. He was lying to both himself and Shockwave and he knew it. If Shockwave lived up to this promising start, Starscream would let him come back again and again and again… 

His field would betray him, but he couldn’t let Shockwave get away without  _ some  _ kind of insult.

Shockwave squeezed harder, and Starscream made a broken, aching sound, vents whining in protest. His processor spun, frantic and hot, and his interface panel clicked open, exposing his now-soaking valve.

Shockwave’s gaze snapped to Starscream’s rapidly pressurizing spike, his pulsing node glowing a bright, beautiful red atop royal blue silicon. Starscream had always been fond of changing frames, and he demanded equipment to match: blue and red, flaring with biolights swirled in elaborate, teasing patterns. His spike he took special pride in: pierced and covered in red spirals, tracing the swollen shape in the same pattern a glossa might follow.

A pity his partner tonight didn’t have one to use.

“Fascinating,” Shockwave murmured, giving an experimental squeeze. Starscream moaned, his frame jerking as Shockwave all but lifted him from the floor. He was going to leave marks on Starscream’s throat and Starscream didn’t even  _ care _ . Lubricant dripped obscenely down his thighs, puddling on the floor beneath him. His EM field flared out to envelop Shockwave, sharing his arousal, the shivery pleasure pumping through his lines.  _ Feel it,  _ he wanted to say;  _ Feel what you’ve done to me, are doing to me.  _

Suddenly, his arousal  _ doubled.  _ For a moment he was confused, shocked; nothing had changed. He was still dangling a centimeter off the floor, Shockwave had hold of him with the exact same pressure as before, and -  _ oh.  _ He was  _ surrounded  _ by Shockwave’s field, hot and pulsing with lust. It crashed over him like a wave, drowning him in Shockwave’s  _ need  _ and  _ want  _ and  _ desire _ . Even Megatron’s field had never felt like this: all-consuming, utterly focused upon him, a will bent upon him that he could resist about as well he might have resisted a black hole.

“Frag me,” Starscream whined, staring over Shockwave’s hand. A wicked grin curved his mouth. “... you coward.”

Shockwave’s audials shot straight up. “The Subject continues to display resistance even in his aroused state,” he said. “The Subject must learn that he will not get what he wants until he  _ begs. _ ”

Shockwave dropped Starscream to the floor. Starscream landed in a disgruntled heap, irritated and aroused beyond excuse. The whir of his fans turned to a scream when Shockwave bent, caught him by the base of his wing, and yanked him to his knees. Starscream blinked, shuddered, groaned as Shockwave wrenched his mouth open. He pressed a thick purple thumb to Starscream’s tongue, staying any snappy retorts the mech might have offered him, and drew back his interface panel to reveal one of the tastiest-looking spikes Starscream had ever laid optics on.

“ _ Hnnnn _ ,” the seeker said, by way of a compliment. The spike was thick and deep purple, lined with soft violet biolights and covered in ridges and bumps undoubtedly positioned to hit every node at the perfect angle. Even if Shockwave had not had a particular interest in interface, he clearly had prepared for the moment he might change his mind. Starscream realized, with a small twinge of shame, that he was drooling, eyes locked on the prize before him.

Starscream pressed a hand between his legs, massaging his pulsing red node, feeling the wet slide of lubricant drip between his fingers to the floor. 

“The Subject,” Shockwave said, with some difficulty - he was venting  _ very  _ hard now, and his spike gave an eager twitch at the sight of Starscream panting to taste it - “Is lubricating freely from mouth and valve. As a reward, the Subject is granted permission to suck.”

Shockwave withdrew his hand, and Starscream fell upon him without thinking, without hesitation. He closed his mouth over the rounded head of Shockwave’s spike and moaned at the taste of hot transfluid, sharp and bitter and utterly delicious. His intake choked around the thick curvature, but Starscream was used to this. He relaxed his intake as best he could, lapping at what he could reach. Shockwave gave a shudder under his mouth, pressing his good hand to the back of Starscream’s helm and pushing him forward.

_ Insistent, aren’t we?  _ Starscream thought, smiling around the mouthful of spike.  _ Wait til you see what I’ll do next. _

Starscream relaxed his intake fully and swallowed, pushing his head forward and taking the whole of Shockwave’s spike into his mouth. It hit the back of his throat and  _ jerked,  _ sensors lighting up and sending an electric blaze over Starscream’s glossa. The jet shuddered, relishing the burn, the charge flickering to life and dancing over his taste receptors.  _ ::Tasty::, _ he commed to Shockwave, onlining his optics and looking up at the other mech with a devilish smirk - an expression he somehow managed even around the spike in his mouth. Shockwave grunted and thrust hard, smashing against Starscream’s voxcorder. Starscream winced, but it was an injury he could have fixed by a medic later - Primus knew how many times he’d had to do so after fragging Megatron like this.

His own charge had built to a fever pitch. Lubricant ran down his thighs, his own spike stiff and dripping transfluid in eagerness. He wrapped one hand around Shockwave’s hip and pulled him forward and back in rhythmic strokes, sucking powerfully; the other hand he set to working his node furiously, pausing only to bury two fingers into the soft, yielding mesh of his valve. His calipers clenched and relented, begging for  _ bigger, thicker, more,  _ but  _ bigger  _ and  _ thicker  _ was currently in his mouth and Shockwave didn’t seem particularly inclined to stop him - 

Shockwave jerked, clenched his hand around Starscream’s helm, and yanked Starscream away with a slick  _ pop. Never mind.  _ Starscream grinned and released Shockwave’s hip, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Too much?” he asked smugly. “Ready to overload already?”

Shockwave’s optic narrowed. “The Subject is too hasty,” he said. “The Subject thinks he has control. This must be remedied.”

Shockwave grabbed Starscream by the arm and  _ threw  _ him onto his berth. Starscream landed with a grunt on hands and knees, legs splayed, valve fully exposed to Shockwave’s wide-cycled optic behind him. Starscream arched up on the berth with a moan, dazed and eager and achingly empty.

He glanced over his shoulder with his best come-hither look, and said, “Frag me then,  _ you coward _ .”

Shockwave hummed, looming over Starscream’s raised aft. His gaze lingered on the pretty blue valve with its shiny red lights, the twitching spike, the jet’s white thighs colored pink with lubricant. Starscream knew he was a sight to behold, and Shockwave seemed to be drinking it in, optic bright and intently locked on his equipment.

“Well?” Starscream said, spreading his valve apart with his fingers. “It’s not going to frag itself.”

Shockwave’s optic narrowed. Instead of coming close, he -  _ lifted his gun arm.  _ Primus, he was fiddling with the settings on his gun - what in the name of - 

“Shockwave, what - ” he started - only for Shockwave to turn and use the gun to slap him hard across the aft, a metallic ringing bouncing off the walls.

“ _ What in the Pit do you think you’re -  _ ” Another hit, this one smacking across the valve. It  _ stung,  _ but it left a little bite of electricity after that built charge, tingling against the silicon and mesh.

The Seeker  _ howled  _ when Shockwave rammed the gun into his valve, burning with an electric charge that was both painful and exquisitely pleasurable. Starscream wailed and bucked, impaling himself on the gun, his fingers tearing the metal of his berth in long strands. Shockwave was relentless, looming over him, chest pressed to Starscream’s back. A wave of vicious pleasure washed over him - Shockwave’s field, fascinated, delighted and absolutely saturated with lust. “The Subject,” the scientist said, “Appears to be on the verge of breaking. Theory: testing his limits will drive him to beg.”

Suddenly the bolts of pleasure lighting up his valve sensors were gone. His calipers clenched down on nothing, all sensation utterly removed - even Shockwave’s field drew back. Starscream sobbed and reached back for Shockwave, frantic, trying to pull the mech back into him. “ _ No! _ ” he cried, struggling to find gun or spike and spear himself on either one. “I give in, I give in, just frag me, damn you -!”

He was rewarded with a quick thrust of the gun, every sensor in his valve alight with electric glow for all of ten seconds before the gun was gone again. 

Starscream wailed and lifted his hips higher, straining for more. 

“The Subject has been evasive,” Shockwave said. His voice was low and hitched with static, so tinged with emotion Starscream could hardly believe it was him. “The Subject must be clearer if he wishes me to frag him senseless.”

Before Starscream could reply, the scientist shoved the gun deep, and Starscream yelped, hips jerking as Shockwave thrust at a punishing pace. Oh, yes, yes, this was what he wanted, this was good, this was _so good -_

Shockwave pulled out, and Starscream  _ screamed,  _ empty and aching and wanting so badly to be  _ full. _

“Please!” he cried. In desperation he rolled onto his back, squirming towards Shockwave, reaching for his hips. Shockwave slapped his hand aside, optic round and bright now. He pinned the seeker down by his cockpit with one heavy hand, forcing him to still. “Shockwave, please, I want - ”

“The Subject is attempting a query. Yes?” The slagger ghosted the head of his spike over Starscream’s valve, jerking away when Starscream thrust downward, trying to get it in him.

“Frag me,  _ please, _ ” Starscream repeated, almost sobbing with want.

Shockwave tilted his head, optic dim. He pressed down harder on Starscream’s cockpit, teasing the opening of his valve again. “The Subject has made his query. The question remains: should I grant compliance? The Subject has been so difficult...”

“ _ Shockwave please frag me Primus damn you! _ ” Starscream was almost babbling now, calipers clenching on nothing, frame so hot that parts of it sizzled. “Shockwave - frag me, please, I’m begging you, I want you, I want it, please - ”

Starscream barely had time to blink before he was stretched painfully full. His incoherent begging had finally won him his prize: Shockwave above him, spike buried in his dripping valve to the hilt, thick and hot and twitching as it adjusted to the tight, wet, welcoming space. Starscream moaned and spread himself wide, splaying himself open for Shockwave. The Seeker arched and yanked Shockwave’s not-a-face down to his actually-a-face, nibbling at the warm metal ridge that framed Shockwave’s optic. Shockwave made a deep groaning sound and leaned into the touch as if it were a kiss. Starscream tilted his head and went for Shockwave’s throat too, nipping and kissing and sucking whatever he could reach; and he was rewarded handsomely with the first delicious, languid thrust, his valve adjusting to Shockwave’s spike and Shockwave’s spike adjusting to its new seat deep inside Starscream. The burn was delicious, and Starscream whined as charge burst and crackled over their two frames. He ground himself against Shockwave’s pelvic plates, hard enough to transfer paint, and this time didn’t care whether or not it did.

He was on the edge too fast, too soon, but he couldn’t have stopped himself even if he had tried. He overloaded with a shriek that might have shattered audials, electric light flaring over his frame as he finally released the excess charge. The berth beneath him was slick and soaked with his lubricant, his chassis covered in his transfluid, and  _ ugh  _ he hadn’t felt so good in ages, so relaxed, so - 

Shockwave was still in him, still thrusting, and Starscream’s frame responded. “ _ Nnnoo… _ ” he slurred, gripping Shockwave’s shoulders. “Too… much…”

“The Subject’s stamina is lacking,” Shockwave hissed, still pounding into Starscream’s valve. “This shall be noted for the future. Perhaps a different Subject might prove more - ”

Oh, to the Pit with  _ that  _ notion. Starscream wasn’t about to let some unknown other Subject beat him out. Snarling, he wrapped his legs tight around Shockwave’s hips and slammed upwards, ignoring the burn in his valve and the wail of his fans desperately trying to keep up. “I’ll show  _ you  _ stamina, you demented cyclops,” he spat, gripping Shockwave around the intake. With deft force, he flipped the bigger mech over, pinning Shockwave beneath him. Smirking as Shockwave’s optic cycled wide with surprise, Starscream lifted himself off Shockwave’s spike - then slammed himself back down, hard, hilting Shockwave in one go. 

The sight of Shockwave convulsing beneath him, optic flaring bright with charge and pleasure, would fuel his ego for eons to come. 

Grinning and panting, Starscream rode the scientist now with abandon, his wings bouncing in a showy display of lust. Shockwave stared up at him unblinking, intent upon him and only him. His focus was - oh, it was unnerving and it was fragging  _ hot,  _ here in the berth. Shockwave watched as Starscream slid up and down his spike, watched Starscream’s face as charge began to overwhelm him again, watched greedily as he moved his hand to grip Starscream’s spike to stroke the jet into overload. Starscream jerked once, twice, three times - then overloaded hard atop Shockwave, riding out wave after wave after wave of charge. A smaller, mini overload hit a second later, when Shockwave gave in and finally came too - gushing hot transfluid deep into Starscream’s valve, smashing against the jet’s ceiling node. Starscream sobbed in pleasure and ground himself down onto the bursting spike, shuddering violently as overload took him; then, at last, he collapsed, strutless and exhausted, atop a heavily-venting Shockwave.

“U--gh,” he said, static sounding as he tried to speak. Wonderful. He’d stressed his vocalizer into disrepair. “I h-pe y--’re pl--sed w-th y--rself.”

Shockwave onlined his optic slowly, still dim. “I found your performance satisfactory.”

“S-tisf-ct-ry!” Starscream sat up despite the quiver that ran through his entire frame, glowering at Shockwave. “Th-t w-s the b-st fr-g of y--r l-fe and y-u kn-w it!”

“Hmmm. Perhaps.” Shockwave reached out and laid his hand on the smooth golden glass of Starscream’s cockpit. “The matter requires further study to be certain.”

Starscream paused, then began to smile. “Ah, I see,” he said. “M-re exp-r-m-nts w-th y--r f-vor-te s-bj-ct?”

“Indeed.” Shockwave let his optic cycle down to just a sliver, almost like a smile. “There is still much to learn before I can truly break you.”


End file.
